Trapped in the obligating shift
That I captured in a glass bottle
Then threw off the cliff
The mischievous trip
Is wrapped with a gift
That controls fancy imagination
Written for us
Then destroyed for participation

A systematic disguise
That seeks to attract us
And then smack us
Like flies

One must understand:
I am not the source
But today, I surrendered.
I am the corpse.

Forever entangled
In every aspect
Of paper pampered baskets

Silicon words
Status dripping
From the print preserved.

Calling his name
He believes.
He is deserved.

Never disown hope
In the swallow of storms
Give up the recitation
Of all previous forms

I was an affirmation
Firm in someone’s grip
Hidden under doorways
Now I’m about slip

Reminders of destitution
Reaching for solutions

Running the prestidigitation
Trying to solve my situation

Never disown hope
In the swallow of storms
Give up the recitation
Of all previous forms

Give the revolution
Take your hands from the die.
I never give up.
One must see the sky
I captured the vision.
A new world inside my eye

Enter the clearing.

Two words are seared
On the petal of my rose

Thronged back to the thorns
As if they disappeared

Like degrees and pressure
There is proportion
When energy is measured

Smelling the beast of emotion
I enter the clearing
Slowing me down
Spaces in-between
The laws of motion

There’s dark force
Raging my skin
And invading my corpse

Damped by ****** moods
Immersed in holy hues

Arranged in the distance
Cruising the corners
In apprehensive missions

Returned to a stolen delivery
Matched to a coved misery

There’s a dark force
Raging my skin
And invading my corpse
I never let it in.

You take what I have.
Crossing tongues
Smashing bones
To create a path

Scorned and ******
To my death

Waves travel.
When you yell
I drink the potion.
Sipping …
Reciting the spell

Scorned and ******
To my death

You’ve taken what I have.
Crossing my tongues
Smashing my bones
You create the path.

Thoughts
Even when wrapped
And tightly capped

Between those eyes

I can obliterate
That crystal disguise

The method of prescription
Is not medicine

I see within.
The mental transcription

I’m sure it’s disabled .
Synapses relabeled

Never to slip into the dogmatic
I must speak to power.
I return to the Socratic.

I must encounter today.
In many moments
In many ways